


Parental Guidance | Minsung

by Ly_The_Great_Fandom_Trashcan



Series: Kpop oneshots :) [3]
Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Children, Comfort, Crying, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Family, Family Bonding, Family Drama, Family Feels, Family Issues, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Han Jisung | Han & Hwang Hyunjin are Best Friends, Han Jisung | Han & Seo Changbin are Best Friends, Hurt/Comfort, Hwang Hyunjin & Seo Changbin are Best Friends, Hwang Hyunjin is a Good Friend, I wrote this instead of focusing on my other books ://, Insecure Han jisung, Jisung is a good dad guys :( dw, Jisung just cries and Minho just sits with him for a long time to comfort him :(, Lee Minho | Lee Know is Whipped, Like seriously he's so nice :((, M/M, Minho decides to help Jisung take care of his daughter and :((, Minho is not very good with adults, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Parenthood, Sad Han Jisung | Han, Seo Changbin is a Good Friend, Shy Han Jisung | Han, Single Parent Han Jisung, Single Parents, Soft Han Jisung | Han/Lee Minho | Lee Know, Soft Lee Minho | Lee Know, Stressed out Han Jisung, Sweet Lee Minho | Lee Know, Tags Are Hard, Teacher Lee Minho
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-13
Updated: 2020-10-13
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:00:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,959
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26993308
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ly_The_Great_Fandom_Trashcan/pseuds/Ly_The_Great_Fandom_Trashcan
Summary: Minho was amazing at calming kids. Whenever the teachers ever had a more than troublesome student, they would always call for him. He knew exactly what to do and what to say when there was a temper tantrum or endless crying. And he always calmed children down-always made them smile in a matter of minutes. Though with adults... he was a little lost, especially when Jisung's glossy, clouded eyes meet his gaze, brows stressing over his eyes and cheeks burning a horrible red."Am I a bad parent?" He asks, Minho shaking his head profusely. But maybe he answered too quickly, perking up when he noticed Jisung almost cry harder.ORSingle father Han Jisung is suddenly called to school regarding his daughter's bad behavior. Instead, he ends up crying in front of the teacher.
Relationships: Han Jisung | Han/Lee Minho | Lee Know
Series: Kpop oneshots :) [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1756870
Comments: 10
Kudos: 323





	Parental Guidance | Minsung

**Author's Note:**

> Hey y'all. Here's just a one-shot that I wrote instead of finishing "Writing a Coloring Book" and the "Danger" rewrite and the AKTP prequel and sequel or starting that Seungjin crime fic I promised :)
> 
> Anyway, I suck at writing angst so I thought I would write angst <3 lowkey  
> It's happy though
> 
> And y'all know me, I'll probably end up writing more parts to this. Idk I kinda want to write a continuation just to see what happens. LMAO
> 
> Wait—I'm the author. I don't get to be curious to what happens next bc I'm the one writing it,,,

"Hello? Is this Han Younghee's father?"

This wasn't out of the ordinary. Jisung would get a call from school from time to time. It was always the same _"Hello? This is Han Younghee's teacher, I've called to discuss so-and-so..."_ At first, Jisung didn't mind it much. Every kid (especially younger ones) are bitter trouble-makers so a call or two from school was to be expected, as he often had in is childhood. However, as the days grew shorter and shorter, Jisung found less and less time to answer the calls. So he used Hyunjin's number as a backup emergency contact.

At first, it wasn't anything much. She would miss a few assignments, didn't like interacting with other kids. Maybe Jisung thought that Younghee was like him—introverted and careless, would get distracted at the first sight of _anything_ other than work. First grade came and went, and it only grew worse. Of course, since Jisung couldn't find the time to answer them (and when he did, he would have forgotten about it) so Hyunjin was to inform him. Again, the missing assignments, the minimal interaction. But now, there was something more. The teacher would call to say that Younghee quietly stole her classmate's belongings, getting terrible grades, never turning in any assignment. But the phone calls weren't constant. There was always one at the beginning of the month, however, a 1-2 break period would soon follow where nothing seems to happen. And Jisung once thought that Younghee had reformed. But the phone calls would start up again.

And now, at the start of the second semester, second grade, there was a call every week.

Jisung once asked Changbin and Hyunjin about it, since the two roommates always looked after Younghee. And being roommates provided Jisung insurance, since there was always at least _one_ of them at home, usually Hyunjin in the mornings and Changbin in the afternoon. But _both_ Hyunjin and Changbin told him that there was something wrong with Younghee. There wasn't anything drastic, they said. She wasn't even a troublemaker at their place—a little surprising to see especially since she's Jisung's kid. Usually, she would sit at the couch instead, in the corner, beside Kkami and play on Changbin's phone or draw or do homework or watch whatever PG drama that played on the TV. And she _did_ do her homework, Jisung concluded. She just refused to turn it in.

But there _was_ something wrong. Hyunjin and Changbin made sure that Jisung knew. Younghee was a quiet kid. But _there was something wrong_.

She just never spoke up to anyone about it—not to Changbin, Hyunjin, her teachers... Jisung.

Jisung always tried to find time to ask Younghee so his kid could see to confide in him whenever she felt alone. However, by the time he got home, the young girl was already tucked into bed, sleeping, with her backpack and a note from Changbin on the countertop to assure Jisung that the day went alright, that Younghee continued to be the good girl that she was.

And despite how tired Jisung was at the end of the day, he would always tread to Younghee's room and peek inside. The nightlight projecting stars onto the ceiling, her small frame covered by a pastel yellow blanket. He would always enter quietly, fixing the toys she left haphazardly on the floor, placing the homework into her backpack, and readying her stuff for the next day. He would fix the covers around her, tuck the stuffed animal that she loved so dearly—before walking out.

He had to sigh in his tiredness outside of Younghee's room. Jisung knew that the little girl would sometimes pretend to sleep to keep Jisung from confronting her.

Really, Jisung is forever grateful for Changbin and Hyunjin. When those two offered to take care of Younghee free of charge instead of a questionable babysitter, Jisung broke into tears at their generosity. And not once did they ever ask for anything in return, not when Jisung offered to pay them, not when he apologized profusely for the inconvenience. They always said they enjoyed their time with Younghee and that Jisung did more for them that they could do for him—that was enough.

"Yes. I'm her father." Jisung swallows a dry lump in his throat at the sound of his kid's teacher, the soft voice sounding a little more worried than what Jisung heard last. Though, Jisung never heard or seen Younghee's second-grade teacher until now. This must've been so important that he called Younghee's father instead of Hyunjin or Changbin. But then again, it always broke Jisung's heart to hear his girl not doing so well in school.

"I'm calling about Younghee—she's not hurt or anything but..." he clears his throat, Jisung's hands stopping their march across the keyboard, glancing around his workplace in case his supervisor catches him. "I was wondering if you're free for a meeting. With Younghee, that is. She got in trouble today— _really_ into trouble and I was wondering what time you'd be available?"

This was the first time the teachers ever called Jisung in. Sure, she caused trouble, didn't turn in her work from time to time... But those were all passable, right? They were just the continuous irks of small children...

"I can do it now! I'm free now!" Jisung exclaims, turning off his computer and already gathering his things as he pushes up his round glasses. His break was due in two minutes anyway and school should've been over already. If Jisung was lucky, Changbin hadn't picked up Younghee yet. He wished he could've gone tomorrow since he still had so much to do today. But then again, he had to stay overtime today _and_ tomorrow. So it shouldn't hurt to rush there now.

"Oh—yeah, that's fine. How long will you get here?"

"Give me five—ten minutes. But is Younghee fine?" Jisung asks, frantically.

"Yes, Younghee is fine. She's not hurt. She started a fight, but otherwise, she's fine."

Jisung let out a breath at that, grabbing his things and bolting to his boss' office once he said goodbye to the teacher and hung up. And knocking on the door, he was relieved to see the inky-haired Australian still there.

"Good afternoon, Han," Bang Chan hums, going over something on his computer before taking a bite out of his salad. He smiles at the squirrelly man when he bows, gesturing to the younger that he could speak.

"Sir, I know it's still the middle of the day and it's still not time for me to clock out or anything but please— _please_ let me get off work early just this once. I promise I'll return later for overtime, and I'll even work extra late on Thursday! But _please!_ " Jisung pleads, frantically, twisting and pulling at his bag as Bang Chan knits his brows with a tilt of his head.

"Is it about your kid?" He asks, with a frown, Jisung nodding frantically before bowing low.

"I'm sorry—But, yes. It is. Please forgive me," the younger says.

"Han Jisung, I told you. If it comes to your kid, you don't have to apologize," Bang Chan huffs, leaning over and staring at the younger worryingly. He bites his lip, with a glance toward the younger, gaze still on the floor with head lowered respectfully. "I understand how it is how have a kid, Han. Go."

Jisung perks up at his boss' approval, eyes wide and mouth agape at the Australian's sympathetic smile.

"Yes—Of course! Thank you! Sir! I'll be back tonight. I'm sorry again!" Jisung felt his chest constricting into itself as he bolted out of the office, running down the hallway and to the elevator.

Everything between the office and Younghee's school was a blur. Jisung remembered running to the bus, remembered fumbling with his wallet as he paid the fare. He remembered how he stood, impressively still in the crowded, moving bus—how dry his throat felt. How wide his eyes were as they seemed to bulge out of his head. He remembered how tightly he gripped the pole and how tight he gripped his bag that he thought it might tear in his hold.

And when the bus doors opened, Jisung sprinted outside. He ran toward Younghee's school, as fast as his legs could take him. Even with the reassurance from her teacher, Jisung couldn't help but feel some sort of second-nature parent intuition—that someone had hurt his child, _his_ girl, _his baby_.

Even when his sides burned and his glasses almost slid off his nose, he continued running, dashing into the quaint primary school. Most students already left for home, save for a few who hung around waiting for their parents or to play with their friends. However, each room Jisung passed was either closed or empty—no Younghee in sight.

He quickly racks his brain to remember what room Younghee was in, huffing when he finally finds an open door down the hall. Though before entering, he takes a deep breath to recompose himself (though it didn't do much for his panting and red face), walking into the room to see a brown-haired teacher sitting on a student chair, too small for his size. He murmurs something Jisung couldn't quite hear from the door, knitting his brows together in worry.

And a little girl sitting beside him, hands under her thighs, staring down at the clean, empty desk, silent, despite the teacher's silent comforts. He looked like she was on the verge of tears, eyes quivering as she tried to turn her head away from the teacher.

Though they only landed on Jisung's shoes, her gaze travelling up to finally meet Jisung's. She still didn't cry, not yet. Han Younghee never cried. But the way she pressed her lips together into a silent hiccup, or how she immediately turned away from Jisung—that broke his heart. So much so that he couldn't bring himself to approach them. His brain screamed at him: embrace her! Ask her what's wrong! Tell her everything will be alright.

But he couldn't. Not when Younghee shook her head when Jisung called out for her.

**\---**

Minho was no stranger to bratty kids.

He used to teach kindergarteners, then first graders, before settling down with the second graders. He enjoyed his time with them, really. Even if there was a handful of kids each year that made his job so much more difficult than it needs to be—he loved them all. And always seeing them culminate, growing up before his very eyes always gave him a sense of pride that bubbled within his chest. 

Even toward one or two of his students that just _never_ followed orders. Who _never_ got along with other kids. Who thought that they ruled the school because they were just a hint bit mature than the other kids.

And he didn't think Han Younghee's behavior could get worse.

No, she followed orders. Was quiet in class, humbled and respectful toward her elders. However, she never got along with the other kids. Not because she was mean or bullied to get a laugh. it was because she just never... talked to any of them.

Minho dealt with her kind before—too many times to count.

There were shy kids, there were outgoing kids. There were introverts, extroverts—shy extroverts, outgoing introverts. Younghee shouldn't be different.

So Minho tried to sit with her during lunch, where she sat on the tables none of the kids go. Where she would eat silently, by her lonesome, doing whatever it was she wanted to do—drawing, writing, going over homework, or just sitting. However, she only ignored his attempts to a conversation, nodding aimlessly in some sort of silent prayer: _"_ Please, leave me alone."

Minho didn't leave her alone though. He hated how many kids have a hard time in school because of how shy they could be. Having no friends in school was just the worst, he understood and didn't want the children to feel like school was just 5-6 hours of hell. So he sat next to her the day after, and the day after that, and the day after that one. Until she didn't sit there anymore, and instead found a new place to sit, a loud reassurance of: " _Please._ Leave me alone."

And Minho thought that would be the end of it. But as the semester dragged on, she wouldn't turn things on time anymore, she gave the other students snarky behavior whenever they asked for things (she wouldn't answer them, and would only take away, per se, scissors when a classmate asked to borrow them).

It started out mellow, Minho not thinking much of it. But it grew drastically over an alarming period of time. No, it wasn't anything _too_ drastic or "delinquent," esque—it was just... _alarming._

She would completely space out in class, completely ignoring Minho when the teacher asked for her. She would pick useless fights with the kids for reasons unknown. And he heard the other kids talking about her.

He pulled one or two of them aside to lecture them about saying mean things, but the students only told him that Han Younghee was a freak. A kid lonely enough that even her parents didn't like to be around her. Needless to say, Minho called those two students' parents, before staring at the young girl on her seat by the window.

And Minho's heart broke at that. Was that why she always seemed so lonely? So out of place, so spaced out. And it's not like Minho could just pull her aside and have a talk. This was a sensitive topic. Even _if_ Younghee had parents, Minho couldn't just rip it out of her in demand of answers toward the rumors.

But he knew this day would come one way or another. Minho _never_ wanted to appoint a meeting with parents. Especially with Younghee. He felt for her, so even though she caused enough trouble to at least warrant _one_ meeting, Minho never did it. For it was a collective sort of _little_ incidents scattered through out the semester. Even if her past teachers complained of the same things. 

Until today, where Minho noticed one of her classmates approaching her when class almost ended. They said things he couldn't really hear—could only see how Younghee yelled at him for being so selfish. He was at their sides in a matter of seconds when Younghee grabbed her classmate's hair and yanked her. One thing led to another, and a tub of glue was splattered on Minho as he tried to protect a crying student.

That was when Minho made the call—when he sat beside Younghee at the table afterschool, trying to wipe any glue left on his arm.

"Are you... Han Jisung?" He asks, wide eyes on the man that stood paralyzed at the doorway.

Minho's seen the man that picked her up before—some short, buff, blonde-haired man with an undercut and a rough voice. He had a few tattoos on him, and Minho even though he was a thug the first day of school when he picked up Younghee. But he was quick to realize that the man, despite his tough exterior, was really soft and nice toward children, especially Younghee who he would always greet crouching with aegyo at the tip of his tongue. She would never like it though, and the man would always shoot up to his feet with a flustered puff of air that was supposed to be a scoff. Minho even sees him with ice cream sometimes and would offer the young girl a piggyback ride on "pig-bunny." She would always refuse though, and never held his hand.

Minho expected to see _him_ today. What he didn't expect was a _completely_ different individual: chubby cheeks, wide, doe-eyes behind round spectacles, short with black hair styled back. He walked into the room out of breath, face red, and probably having run from wherever he was moments earlier.

His heart was exposed and clear on his sleeve as his eyes fell on the young girl sitting beside Minho, how it wrenched and withered so visibly when Younghee turned away from him. How he trembled and frowned but faked a smile in an attempt to reassure the young girl even if it only lowered his own confidence.

"I- I am," he clears his throat when Younghee ignored him, voice shaky and small as his eyes never left the young girl.

"Please, take a seat," Minho softly says, pulling a chair so the man could sit in front of them. "I thought the man who picked her up was her father."

"Oh— No, no, that's just a close friend of mine. He takes care of Younghee when I'm at work." Minho found it weird that not even the consent forms had Han Jisung's name on them. It was mostly " _Hwang Hyunjin_ " with an occasional _"Seo Changbin"_. And technically, parents didn't have to sign any consent forms as long as it was any legal guardian. But this was the first time Minho's ever heard of Han Jisung—her _actual_ father. "Why? What happened?" He asks, eyes finally tearing themselves away from Younghee to stare with knitted brows at Minho. pushing up his glasses that threatened to fall off his nose.

"Younghee, she..." Minho takes a breath, sighing and instead clasping his hands onto the table. "She got into a fight today. I- I don't know what happened. But she threatened a classmate and fought with her." Minho decides to leave out the tub of glue incident, especially with how Younghee continued to sink further and further into her chair while Jisung's eyes widened with each word from Minho. "And I'm sure you've heard the other calls I sent home. About her recent behavior and her failing grades. She's been hostile to the other kids—they're afraid to talk to her. And there were rumors about her that I successfully stopped. If I hadn't, who knows what would've happened?"

Minho _really_ didn't want to make this appointment. He wasn't mad at Younghee, no. He didn't want to exact revenge for that childish tub of glue or ridicule her for all the missing assignments. But he knew he _had_ to get involved in some way before the school's director was ever brought into this.

"How... How long has this been going on?' Jisung murmurs, Minho tilting his head in confusion. Did he not know?

"Well... since last year? The rumors didn't start until a few weeks ago, though."

Jisung turns to Younghee, seeing the little girl curl up into herself. Minho half-expected him to yell? Get mad? Minho's been to many conferences like these. And it's sad to say that seeing parents publicly get mad at their child or, in extreme cases, hit them—he couldn't help but expect it from Jisung too. No matter how innocent or caring he may look.

But instead, he bows in apology, sitting back up with an apologetic smile and knitted brows.

"I'm- I'm so sorry. It's my fault for not asking her sooner. I- I never wanted to happen," he sucks in a breath, Younghee perking up from her seat and knitting her brows toward Jisung. "Everything at home as been fine—please, I'm—"

"How do you know?"

It was so quiet that the two men almost missed it. So quiet, and fragile and shaky that Minho blinked furiously if he had heard correctly. He's never heard Younghee talk, even when Minho deliberately asked her questions in class to at _least_ get her to open up even if a little. But she never did, and Minho never forced her past that. But the way she sounded so confident, so _unlike_ Younghee...

Even Jisung stared at her in confusion. But was quick to shake his head and stare back at Minho.

"I'm really sorry. I'm—"

The two jumped at the sound of a chair screeching against the floor, Younghee shooting up her feet and almost _fuming_ at Jisung. No, she didn't spout profanities or held a tantrum, didn't even glare at him or make any sort of frantic gestures.

Instead, she cried.

She cried as she stared at her father sitting across from her, cried as the tears that she furiously held back earlier only erupted into hot streaks down her face, hiccuping and choking on the anger and the emotions that suffocated her so.

"Younghee—"

"Appa, how come you never ask me what's wrong?" She asks between the tears, her face twisting into a painful hurt that Minho's heart wrenches at. Jisung, however, could only stare helplessly at her, thrown into a whirlwind of stormy emotions that Minho could see vividly in his eyes as he stared at the little girl. "How come you never ask _my_ side of the story? You're always apologizing and always taking _their_ side first. Pa—how come you don't care about me??"

"Younghee that's not true! "Jisung perks up, opening his mouth as he pleads fervently for his child to calm down. He reaches over to take her hand, but she only yanks it away. "I love you, you—"

"You're never there when there's something wrong!" She yells at him, wiping furiously at her tears with her sleeve, though failing, face flushed red, eyes too as snot cumulated from her nose. 

"I- I don't understand... Younghee—baby—"

"I hate you!" Jisung freezes at those words, staring at Younghee as more tears fall from her eyes, almost making her look unrecognizable. Han Younghee, the quiet, humble, respectful... they were all facades weren't they? Just useless fronts to the what she really harbored inside.

And it pained Minho to witness it all unravel before him.

"I only cause trouble thinking— _hoping_ you'd care. But you never care! You don't care about me at all!" She sobs, though before either man could say a word, she was out the door.

"Younghee!" Jisung desperately calls after her, his voice cracking at the seams as the two rush out the door. Though when Minho holds Jisung back from chasing after her, Minho couldn't help his heart break at the look Jisung gave him. It was rid of any anger, rid of disgust that might've bubbled after Minho held him back. Instead, he looked helpless, pathetic almost—like he was lost? Confused? Suffocating? A kicked puppy under the horrible downpour of a storm. 

Minho's been a teacher for quite a long time. This isn't the first time Minho's ever seen such events. Sometimes, kids just feel like that. Feel like no one cares—not even parents. Sometimes, they're _not_ all play and no work. They're capable of complex emotions too.

Children run away, they fight with their parents. It's just part of life. And Minho always feels for _both_ parties, being the middle ground, seeing some of both worlds. 

However, the way Jisung stares at him, the way he carefully pulls his arm away, the way he nods in understanding—Younghee needs her space. The way he lets out a hiccup and his eyes blink furiously behind the glare of his glasses. The way he turns around to stare at the direction Younghee went in, fumbling with the straps of his bag and—trembling. He suddenly begins to bawl, almost like Younghee had mere moments earlier, hiccuping and choking on his breath.

Though with shaky hands, he pulls off his glasses, attempting to wipe them clean only to drop them to the floor in a pathetic _"clack."_

"Woh, woh—" Minho furrows his eyebrows, watching helplessly as Jisung crouches to the floor, hugging his knees to his chest and blubbering and heaving—his chest rising in deep inhales before going back down in choppy slides. He coughs—though instead choking onto his own sobs as he wipes his face frantically with his sleeve and hands.

"Look, it's going to be okay—it'll be okay," Minho panics, reaching for Jisung's discarded glasses and crouching in front of the man. He hesitates before patting the other's back lightly, reaching up to ruffle his hair tentatively. Minho was _amazing_ at calming kids. Whenever the teachers ever had a more than troublesome student, they would always call for him. He knew exactly what to do and what to say when there was a temper tantrum or endless crying. And he always calmed children down—always made them smile in a matter of minutes. Though with adults... he was a little lost, especially when Jisung's glossy, clouded eyes meet his gaze, brows stressing over his eyes and cheeks burning a horrible red. 

"Am I a bad parent?" He asks, Minho shaking his head profusely. But maybe he answered too quickly, perking up when he noticed Jisung almost cry harder.

"No- no- no- you're not," Minho reassures. "Seriously—there are worse parents out there."

"She hates me," Jisung hiccups, his lungs trying to search for air. When he noticed his sleeves were already wet and full of tears and snot, Minho pulls up his own, helping the younger wipe neverending streams that flowed down. "I thought it was fine. I thought—I thought _she_ was fine... She doesn't really say anything—and- and- and even Changbin hyung and Hyunjin say that she's _fine."_

"Well, children are still learning how to speak. And I mean that mentally and emotionally. Sometimes, you just have to simply ask them what's wrong. Confide in them so they could confide you."

Jisung tucks his head into his arms, muffled wails echoing through the empty hallway.

Minho was grateful that most people were gone from the school at this hour, leaving the two alone to their own privacy and much-needed comfort. Though, he felt like he was invading into Jisung's privacy himself. Like he's not meant to be here—which he's _not_. He's only Younghee's teacher. Not a brother, not a father, not a close friend. He had no say in this, not when it was all Jisung's call, not Minho's.

"I'm so sorry." Minho frowns at the younger's pathetic apology, muffled by his sleeves and broken by the dry sobs that wracked through the shorter's body, the tears finally dried up from Jisung. But in no way did it stop the black-haired man from hiccuping and choking and coughing. "I'm- I'm so sorry you had to see me like this."

"Han Jisung-ssi, please stop apologizing," Minho hums, cleaning the younger's glasses. He gently taps other's shoulder, Jisung raising his head and meeting Minho's eyes on him. His eyes puffy and a terrible red, whole face flushed as his entire face had remnants of semi-dried tears and snot. He hiccuped from time to time, his lungs still not used to the intake of air, and he coughed too, Minho patting his back when he choked on his breath. The teacher pulled up his sleeve, to clean up Jisung's face (even if it was a little bit) as he gave him a small smile. "It's not your fault. Really. But you _do_ have to fix it."

"It's just—I'm just so busy trying to make ends meet. But everytime I feel like I could finally give her even a _portion_ of the world, those ends change. And I could never connect them—" Jisung sniffles, nudging the older's sleeve away to clean up his face himself. "And I care about her, I do. So much. So, _so much_ that it hurts sometimes. It hurts to see her so quiet and to learn all that had been kept inside her—how could I even be a mother to her too when I can't even be a father?" He asks, trying to inhale through his mouth instead to breathe easier, even if each intake was as shaky than the last. That was why Youngbee was sensitive to the rumors. She didn't have a mother, but she also couldn't confide in her father. And Minho wondered if it hurt specifically more to have a father beside you, but you can't consider him a father.

"Like I said, it's not your fault, Han Jisung-ssi," Minho sighs, placing his arms on his knees as he smiles reassuringly at the younger. "I mean... I've worked with kids all my life. And everyone's situation is different and... I get it. Parenthood isn't easy. I can see how much you love Younghee though. But, I don't think you're just giving it the right way."

Jisung nods, allowing the older to elaborate and to show that he was listening, quiet sniffles coming from him instead of choppy breaths. He was calming down exponentially and Minho felt a small sense of pride in him that he could calm down adults too, though it was a required bit more hard work.

"I mean... I don't think Younghee understands finance. Or economy," Minho says, Jisung letting out a light, congested laugh at that, one that the older smiles at. "So... She might need affection from you in a way she can understand. And- and I'm not trying to scold you or lecture you about being a better parent!" Minho exclaims, shaking his head profusely and making some unknown gestures with his hands. "All I'm trying to say is... Just _talk_ to her. Spend time with her if you can. Children aren't adults. They need more of an emotional response instead of a logical one. And I know that, as she grows up, she'll understand what you did for her behind everything."

Jisung stares at the space between them, his eyes so full and cloudy of something Minho couldn't quite intercept yet. But he didn't need to. He was only Younghee's teacher—and he's been in the Hans' business enough. There was no need for Minho to dig anymore and he was okay with that, even if a part of him wanted to indulge his ever so present curiosity.

"I don't know if this is going to help or not but—" Minho clears his throat, the younger peeking up with knitted brows as Minho places the glasses back on Jisung's face, pushing it up so it didn't fall off. "You're not the worst parent out there, at least. I've seen worse: ones that take advantage of their kids, ones that manipulate, ones that even abuse them. You're trying your hardest at least, and I can see that. I just hope Younghee can see it too. And parents don't always have to be parents. They can be friends to their kids too."

Jisung smiles small at that, letting out an airy laugh that was interrupted by a hiccup. Though he nods, shutting his eyes and relaxing his shoulders to completely calm himself. Calm. Minho had succeeded in completely calming an adult after all.

And they continue to sit in silence after that. It wasn't anything too heavy or comfortable either, nothing too overwhelming. It was more of a silence that took notice of each other's presence, one that just said from Jisung _"I know you're there but thank you."_ And Minho didn't need to hear it to know. Younghee was just the same way.

"We should go look for Younghee," Minho says, shooting up to his feet with a bright smile Jisung fails to equally return. But he lets the older help him up, standing on wobbly legs that Minho had to steady him with hands on his shoulders.

"I... I wanna thank you," Jisung croaks out, Minho waving him off dismissively with teasing narrow eyes.

"I have to take care of my students—even if it means sitting with their crying parent." Minho perks up, running into the room. From his bag, he pulls out a water bottle and some tissues, rushing back out to hand it to a confused squirrelly man. "Here. I don't think parents ever want their children to see them cry."

"Again, thank you," Jisung murmurs out, taking the items with a small bow. "I—uhm... what's your name? I'm sorry—"

"Oh! I should be the one sorry I didn't introduce myself!" Minho laughs, scratching at his head before holding out a hand Jisung hesitantly shakes. "Lee Minho."

"Han Jisung—well you already knew that," Jisung shakes his head, the teacher laughing at that. "You already take care of kids everyday, I'm sorry I made you work overtime."

"Like I said, Han Jisung-ssi. You don't have to apologize. Let's search for Younghee. I think I might know where she is." Accompanying the younger, Minho leads Jisung to one of the corners of the school. A table where no one sits at during lunch, near some trees and bushes that overlooked a small basketball court that the older kids played in. Right next to some patches of flowers explicitly off-limits, with a small wire picket fence surrounding it.

Younghee was there, sitting with a familiar, shirt buff man with a blonde undercut and tattoos sitting next to her. They didn't specifically talk, but he still accompanied her (presumably seeing her when he came to pick her up) on the table, sitting so he faced the basketball courts, elbows on the table.

Jisung stares at them, swallowing a harsh lump in his throat that Minho notices.

"Look, I don't know if this is overstepping my boundaries as a teacher but..." Minho clears his throat when Jisung glances up at him, eyes wide and still glossy and tinged red from crying earlier. But at least it wasn't as noticeable as earlier. "If you want I could help you? Take care of her I mean. In school, maybe outside of school too, if you're okay with it."

Jisung knits his brows, returning his gaze on Younghee. He didn't say anything, and Minho almost dismissed his own statement, thinking that Jisung quietly rejected with his silence. But he perks up when he notices the younger nod, though subtly, his fingers playing with the straps of his bag.

Jisung didn't see, but Minho smiles at him. Reassuringly, warm and small as a way to tell Jisung that everything would be all right. He was a parent. Every parent went through hardships and Minho knew that the younger would eventually come out on top of it all.

"Thank you," Jisung murmurs, treading carefully toward Younghee and the man. When the man notices Jisung, he immediately perks up, shooting to his feet and approaching the squirrelly man with knitted brows and a frown.

They talk, Jisung explaining the situation to the man in words that Minho couldn't hear. But he could still see how much pain crossed his face when he finally glanced at Younghee, arms crossed on the table and staring down at a speck of dirt. She, like her father, stopped crying, however there was clear signs of the hurricane that wreaked havoc.

Jisung crouches in front of her, murmuring, trying to smile and reassure Younghee.

And even after all that, after weeping and breaking and sobbing, Minho commended Jisung for smiling still. To at least give his daughter some sense of brightness in an otherwise dark time. And it worked—somewhat. As Jisung opened his arms, Younghee hesitated to hug him. Though when she did, Jisung looked like he wouldn't ever let her go.

Minho's been a teacher for many years. He's seen all kind of parents, all kind of situations similar to Jisung and Younghee's. He's seen parents scold their child, praise their child, have fun with their child. He's seen children cry, laugh, scream, whimper.

But he's never seen a parent openly break down like that. He's never seen a child get seriously angry at their parent like that.

And Minho saw, that despite Jisung having situation similar to other parents, he wanted to be there for Han Younghee and Han Jisung.


End file.
